Witch Hunt: Book One of the Ventures West Series Preview

Here is a sample of my current novel ... I'm almost complete with the third (and hopefully last) draft!

The series is called Ventures West, and the first book is titled Witch Hunt.

CHAPTER ONE
​
The First Hunt

October 27, 1864
Virginia Countryside

Caitlin Smith hopped down from the seat of her wagon, spinning as she did to land with a cat-like grace on the soft dirt of the trail. The wind had picked up, and clouds had rolled in during the few hours she'd traveled out from Williamsburg. The smell of rain had mixed with the earth smell of the countryside, the dry winds that rustled through the leaves grew damp and brought with it a veil of mist that even now sought to obscure everything from view. Caitlin settled a hand on the damp cloth she'd wrapped around the wagon's wheels in the hopes of a stealthy approach and tugged at a stubborn drawer that finally opened with a rasping protest. The horse pulling her wagon brayed quietly.

"Don't worry Bitty." Caitlin whispered, her voice barely louder than the whispering wind. Still there. Caitlin thumbed through the crumpled collection of papers, five tattered sheets with the faces of five individuals scribbled in a black ink, nearly indiscernible in the low light. The word WANTED was clear in bold letters along the top of the first sheet, a ratty old woman's face made creepier by the light stared up at Caitlin, one eye noticeably wider than the other. Should be a satisfying payout if I can bag all five here... Three witches, two skin walkers. Easy.

Caitlin gave a satisfied tilt of her head and glanced down at the small leather satchel that hung at her side a few inches below one of her two Colt 1851 Navy revolvers, the place where she stored all of her cattlemantic brews. She slipped the top flap open and ran her fingers across four tiny glass vials. One... two... three... she stopped on the third one, tapping a finger on the rough cork which sealed it. That's the one ... Caitlin withdrew the vial and held it up to her eyes. A lilac liquid within glowed with a faint luminescence too weak to illuminate anything more than an inch away. Caitlin thumbed the cork free, it disappeared into the undergrowth beside the trail. The scent of precipitation was joined immediately by a flowery aroma and something sweet like a basket of peaces. Maybe this one wouldn't taste as bad as the others she'd tried. "Cheers Bit."

Caitlin knocked her head back as she gulped down the brew, a milky substance that was as sweet as it smelled. No foul aftertaste ... Caitlin smirked, then grimaced. Never mind. A warmth burned within her chest, her cheeks and eyes began to tingle a couple of seconds later. She blinked a few times as the darkness seemed to lift from around her, the shadows receding until they were no longer a bother to her vision. Everything around her was still largely absent of color, still evidently darkened ... she could just see better.

Caitlin slid the drawer shut and scanned her surroundings. A gust of wind caused the boughs of large oak trees that lined the right side of the trail to sway overhead elicited creaks and moans sounding like disembodied souls calling out from the darkened woods beyond. Caitlin's wagon groaned in reply as the wind buffeted its side. She bound her hair in a ponytail she'd tied hundreds of times before and studied her reflection in the round window set into the wagon's side, a red curtain drawn across it's surface within.

Caitlin met her own gaze, her two eyes--the right a light lapis blue, the left a golden amber--stared back. Her lips were drawn in a tight resolute line and a look of determination she wished she could feel. Thinking back to her wanted posters, she recalled three of her targets were wanted for witchcraft. Witchcraft ... what protections do I have? Caitlin thought for a moment before pulling open a locked external drawer below the wagon window, Caitlin withdrew a hagstone necklace and an amulet with gemstones that some man in a nearby town promised her was blessed. He looked legitimate enough ... Caitlin frowned. She slipped the necklace and amulet on around her neck.

"You've got this Cait'." The words brought her some comfort as they repeated over and over within her mind, in the warm and soft reassuring voice of her father. They repeated the same way they always had in the twenty-four years Caitlin could remember, and they reassured her--as they always had. "You've got this ... Cait'." Bit huffed, looking back at her from ahead, his head bobbed in what Caitlin hoped was a horse's form of agreement. She jumped at the sudden slap of Bit's tail against his rear. Calm down Cait'. You've got this.

She turned and made her way down the trail. Twigs snapped below Caitlin's boots as she tugged the brim of her hat down, snugging it on her head, and walked past Bit running a hand over his brown coat. The wet muzzle of her horse nudged against her skin, right where her vest ended at her shoulder.

Caitlin focused for a moment on the manor house that loomed, silhouetted against the bleak skies beyond, and then to the trail that ended a few dozen yards ahead. A twisted rot iron gate slightly ajar still clung to one bracket of a wall's stone pillar. The forest seemed keen on claiming the gate as it's own, evident by the creeping ivy that crawled out along the forest floor and had already completely covered the entire wall to the entryway's right in a leafy coat the rippled as if it were alive.

Clouds broke momentarily, revealing a bright moon that bathed the compound in silvery shards of light, exposing the tattered shingles that hung from the eaves of a gabled roof riddled with holes that dropped into unseen darkness below. Four grand Greek pillars stood like sentinels before the rest of the house, obscuring rows of boarded windows beyond. Caitlin dropped to a low crouch as she neared the gate, gingerly stepping over a log and avoiding another twig. A faint patter of rain began, joining with the hollow winds in a way that set Caitlin's skin crawling as icy droplets splashed against her.

The feeling that she wasn't alone tugged at gut.

Her breaths were now coming out in short bursts of fog that was instantly carried away.

One window, seconds ago covered completely by a column, radiated with a faint yellow light that slipped between the planks of wood that someone long ago had nailed across it's surface. It was then Caitlin knew ...

This is the place.

"Victory ... or death." Caitlin muttered cross-drawing her pair of Colts, rivulets of water falling from the brim of her hat. She slid between the two halves of the gate and towards her quarries.

Behind her the wagon groaned.

Alright, so that is a little sneak peak of what is in the works! Keep in mind it is still a draft and subject to change ... not to mention, any typos or grammatical errors will be corrected as well! Let me know what you think in the comments below.

Merry Christmas!

-Matthew

If you'd like to connect, feel free to follow me on Twitter @MattTaylor1776 (I follow back!) or just comment below!